


Death, Death (i defy thee)

by alamorn



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Beth Greene Lives, F/M, Pre-Relationship, beth-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-05 03:05:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20481800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alamorn/pseuds/alamorn
Summary: Beth knows what they say about failure. Try, try again. She'll get out of Grady sooner or later.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Don’t worry about how this works with canon, because I certainly didn’t. Title from “Magpie” by The Unthanks

A week after her first escape attempt, half the population at Grady Memorial had found Beth scouting out routes of escape. It was possible that one or two of them had bought her lame excuses but most of them hadn't. Only one had beaten her for it, and he'd hit softer than Dawn, so she figured that wasn't a terrible rate. She was honestly pretty surprised that they let her have such free rein, but from what she could tell, they were stretched even farther than she'd thought, and, well -- when you're that surrounded by Walkers, the city a moat ten miles deep, she could see why they weren't so worried about escapees. They hadn't had her to contend with, though.

She kept trying to tell herself that. She  _ could _ make it out. She'd come so close the first time, and never mind that she'd been out of ammo, wearing the thin scrubs and no idea where she was going except  _ away _ . So. She could do this. And take Carol with her, though it would be awfully helpful if Carol would go on and wake up already. But whenever she started worrying too much about whether Carol would  _ ever _ wake up again, she started looking for another weak point.

The Walkers were the real problem, which was so self-evident that Beth wasn't sure why she'd bothered hoping they might not be, that maybe the height of the building would be the problem, or the patrols, or something like that, but, like everything else these days, Walkers were the problem that made all the other,  _ worse _ problems. It was a hospital. It had never been meant to be fortified and quarantined the way it had been. There should have been a million points of egress, a word Beth had thought was a type of bird when she first heard it. Still thought of it that way -- egress, flying free. 

As it was, there were the elevator shafts, leading down into the slaughterhouse of the ground floor. There were the stairways, clear leading up, heavily barricaded at the second floor. There was the roof, which let her see just how far and in how many directions she was fucked, as Daryl would say.

She hoped Noah was alright out there on his own.

She sat on the edge of the roof, staring out over the graveyard of Atlanta, thinking. The parking garage looked like her best bet so far -- she didn't want to try and go down through the corpse dump again. It was just luck that she hadn't gotten hurt as bad as Noah, jumping down there. 

The door swung open and shut behind her and Beth glanced over to see who it was. She wasn't in the mood for either Dawn or Dr. Edwards, but better them than one of Gorman's friends.

It was Shepherd, one of the nicer cops. She came to stand next to Beth. "You spend too much time up here, Dawn's gonna get a bee in her bonnet about it."

"I'm not doing anything," Beth said, but didn't bother getting heated. "Just enjoying some fresh air."

"Yeah," said Shepherd, taking a deep breath, "it smells great out here." This high up it didn't smell nearly so badly of rot as at street-level but there was still a certain sickly aftertaste to the air, a smell so thick it left residue on your tongue.

Beth almost laughed, which was as close as she'd gotten since she got to Grady. "What're you doing up here?"

"Looking for you," Shepherd said, facing her directly. "I wanted to ask you to take a break, looking for a way out. Not give it up, just. Give it a while."

"I don't wanna owe you guys anymore than I already do," Beth said.

"That's not what I'm talking about." Shepherd shifted her weight from one foot to the other, hands tucked securely behind her back. "Things are going to change soon."

Beth snorted softly. "And how long've you been telling yourself that? I'm not staying a second longer than I gotta."

"A long time," Shepherd admitted. "But you've pushed things. With Gorman dead, and Noah gone, the balance is changing. She can feel it too. That's why she's keeping you so close."

Beth stared out at the singed bases of the buildings. She didn't have a baseline for Dawn, didn't know what she'd been like, before. Didn't know if she tried to get absolution from all the people she kidnapped, or if Beth was special somehow. "She wants to be forgiven," Beth said, telling the walkers below as much as Shepherd at her side.

"Don't we all?" Shepherd asked. "Listen, Beth. Can you trust me? Can you give me just a little longer to get this all done, no violence needed?"

Beth shook her head, finally looking back at Shepherd. "I'm gonna keep looking. I have to, you gotta understand that."

Shepherd sighed. "I do." She paused for a long time. "If you change your mind, let me know. You seem like a good person to have onboard."

She headed back for the door, stopping just before she re-entered the stairwell. "Dawn's looking for you, by the way."

Beth sighed. It seemed like Dawn was always looking for her. She needed a floor mopped, a uniform pressed, an extra pair of hands for Dr. Edwards, someone to hit. "Where is she?" she asked.

"She was near the garage when I saw her," Shepherd said, and held the door as Beth walked passed, into the maw of the hospital. It still unsettled her, the desperate attempt to look as if nothing had changed.

Everything had changed. Pretending it wasn't so wouldn't undo it.

They walked together in silence for a few floors, until Shepherd peeled off. Beth continued down and down until she reached the barricades that separated the stairway from the walkers. She tapped her knuckles against the metal grating, but there was too much between her and the walkers for them to hurtle up to her the way they could in the basement proper. She turned from the grating into the second floor, heading for the garage access.

It wasn't the real garage, the parking garage that hulked alongside the hospital. It was the access to the first floor, where the cars were kept. Beth had looked around already and counted it out -- it was not only observed but actively guarded, in case the walkers tried to batter their way in. Dawn wasn't there.

O'Donnell, one of Gorman's friends, was. He drew himself up at the sight of her. He hooked his hands in his belt, near his gun, and swaggered over to her. "Looking to break out again? Risk more of our lives?"

"I was -- I was looking for Dawn," she said, backing up as he crowded into her space. She hated to give ground, hated the fear that crawled up her spine. She was a survivor, she was  _ strong _ , but she was also unarmed, and he was twice her size. She didn't want to be afraid, but she couldn't seem to stop herself. "I heard she was looking for me."

"And when Dawn calls, you come?" he asked, a curl to his lips that set off alarm bells. "She's taken a liking to you, hasn't she? She likes 'em young and pretty." 

Her back hit the wall and he took another step, so there wasn't enough space between them, not enough at all. There was nothing around to hit him with. But his eyes were hard on her face, and his hands hadn't moved from his gun. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"She hasn't fucked you yet, then? Just beat on you a little?" He laughed, entirely without humor. "Maybe that's what gets her off these days."

"It's not like that," Beth said, though she wasn't sure that was true.

"What is it then? What's so good about you that she's not investigating Gorman's death?"

Beth couldn't help it: she flinched. His eyes sharpened and his forearm slammed into her chest, pinning her in place against the wall, pushing her up onto the tips of her toes. "I don't know what you're talking about! Joan killed him!"

"And what was he doing in there?" O'Donnell asked, leaning harder into her so it was hard to breathe. "Looking for you, I think. He liked blondes."

"No," she said, trying to pull his arm from her chest. It was like trying to move an iron bar. "Let me  _ go _ ."

"Or what?" he asked, face so close to hers that she could smell his breath washing over her face.

She lunged forward, teeth snapping. Her mouth filled with blood and she hit the floor hard enough for her ears to ring. She spat out a chunk of flesh -- his  _ cheek _ , she thought hysterically, she'd bitten off his  _ cheek _ \-- and pushed up to run before his foot slammed down on her back, holding her to the floor.

"You fucking  _ bitch _ ," he said, gun aimed steadily at her head. "You fucking bit me? You're half-rotter already. I should put you down now."

"Stop." Beth had never been so glad to hear Dawn's voice.

O'Donnell didn't look away from her and Beth didn't look away from him. His blood was warm on her chin. "The little bitch  _ bit _ me, Sergeant."

"Go see Dr. Edwards. You don't want it getting infected. I'll deal with her."

He spat, the bloody saliva landing an inch from Beth's face. She watched his teeth grind through the hole in his face. "Like you dealt with her last time?"

"You want to register a complaint, O'Donnell?" Dawn asked, her voice sharp.

Finally his eyes flickered away from Beth. It seemed the precipice had snuck up on him, but he wasn't quite ready to step off yet. With a scowl, he put his gun back and stepped away, hands in the air. "No complaints, sir."

"Go get cleaned up," Dawn said. "I don't want you out of commission."

O'Donnell gave Beth another dark look, then strode away, door slamming behind him. Beth scrambled to her feet, making sure to put Dawn squarely in her sights. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, then spat again to clear the taste.

Dawn looked -- she looked tired. Worn down. Shoulders slumped, head shaking, fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. "You can't help yourself, can you? I get the feeling I would have seen a lot of you even if the rotters hadn't come."

"Are you going to beat me again?" Beth asked, not fooled by either the expression or the words. Dawn would do anything to get her way. That had been clear from the start.

"You've left me no choice," Dawn said. "You injured one of my officers. How would it look if I just let you walk away?"

Defenses sprang up her throat, but Beth swallowed them back. Despite everything, she wanted to stomp her foot and say  _ not fair _ , but that wouldn't help. It wasn't fair. Nothing was fair.  _ Fair _ wasn't some universal force, like gravity, or the virus. "Put me out," she said instead. "I'm a danger to everyone around me, so put me out to die. You wouldn't even have to get your hands dirty."

Dawn shook her head, walking over to Beth. Beth tried not to tense, but she couldn't help it. Fight or flight, and she couldn't do either. "I'm not going to let you die." She said it like it should be comforting. It sounded like a threat.

Suddenly Beth just wanted it over with. Waiting for the blow was the worst part. "Why do you want me to like you so bad?" she asked, aiming for cutting and landing somewhere wretched.

Dawn managed to look heartbroken. "Because I'm not a bad person, Beth, and I want you to see that." 

Rage swelled in Beth until it pushed out all other emotions. "And the trap at the funeral home. Was that something a good person would make?" 

Dawn's face shuttered. Her back drew up straight. One of her hands curled into a fist, and Beth prepared for pain. "I don't know what you're talking about." 

"I'm not  _ stupid,  _ Dawn. How much of your  _ limited resources _ does that take up? Keeping it clean, and stocked, getting the walkers out? There wasn't nothing wrong with my wrist, fore I got here, and there's still nothing wrong with my memory, no matter how hard Gorman hit me with that damn car. You brought me here because you thought I was weak. You should have left me." Beth panted. Her hands were shaking. She swallowed convulsively, eyes hot. "I was gonna write a  _ thank you note _ ." 

"No. We shouldn't have brought you in. That was a mistake," Dawn said, raising one hand to cup Beth's jaw, swiping her thumb over Beth's bloody lips. "You want to be in the basement with the rest of our mistakes? Is that what you want, Beth?" 

Beth held as still as she could, still like she was waiting out a walker, still like it was the only thing keeping her alive, but she couldn't stop the fine trembling that raced up and down her body. "No." 

"Then you better stop talking," Dawn said, almost kindly. Her hand clamped tight on Beth's jaw, thumb forcing its way into her mouth. It tasted like salt and skin and disinfectant. Beth thought she was going to be sick. "You think I have space to keep you alive out of the kindness of my heart? You think I have  _ time _ ? Newsflash, Beth. I don't."

Beth turned her head, pulling away from Dawn's hand, and spoke to Dawn's boots. "Then why am I still alive? Why not get rid of me for once and for all?" 

Dawn looked her slowly up and down. "I've always been a problem-solver, Beth. I'm just not sure yet which you are." She turned to go, then turned back with a sigh, hand already moving. The slap landed hard enough to knock Beth off balance, and the next blow put her on the ground. Dawn straddled her and slapped her once more. "This isn't how I wanted to spend the day, Beth," she said. "I have other things I need to do."

There was nothing Beth wanted to say that wouldn't get her hit again, so she said nothing, just staring up at Dawn until she sighed and got off of her. She offered Beth a hand, but Beth didn't take it, getting cautiously to her feet on her own power. "I heard you were looking for me," she said when there were a few feet between them. "I was coming to find you when..."

Dawn glanced at the blood and bit of flesh on the floor. "Yeah. Clean this up and then come to my office."

Beth didn't move until the door closed behind Dawn, and then she let out a shaky breath and went to get the mop. The chunk of flesh she dropped down the elevator shaft.

\--

After going to see Dawn, Beth went to see Carol. She brought a mop with her, to have an excuse, but when she got in and saw Carol's eyes open, she dropped it and hugged Carol hard without thinking of anything else.

Carol's arm around her shoulders felt frail, a word she never associated with Carol. "Beth," she breathed. "I'm so glad you're alive."

"I should be saying that to you," Beth said into her neck. "I'm gonna get us outta here, Carol, don't you worry." Beth pulled back to look Carol in the eyes, make her promise real, and Carol smiled sadly, pushing a lock of Beth's hair behind her ear.

"We were on our way to get you. Didn't realize you had it all under control."

"We?" Beth asked, heart leaping to her throat.

"Me and Daryl," Carol said.

Beth let out something that would have been a sob, if she was still that sort of person. "Daryl's alive? Thank God."

"Yeah," Carol said. "Yeah, Daryl's fine. He's pretty torn up about you. Blames himself."

"No," Beth said. "No, the only person whose fault it is, is the ones who took me."

"You'll have to tell him that yourself," Carol said, eyes sliding back closed. "Don't think he'll believe it any other way."

Beth smoothed her hand over Carol's hair. "Go back to sleep," she said. "Don't worry. I'll get us out. I'll tell him."

The only problem was she was no closer to getting out than she'd been at the beginning of the week. She'd been talking to the other wards, had checked out every possible exit, and she still didn't even know where her things were. She took a moment to crouch, pressing her forehead to her knees. What would Maggie do?

Do whatever she had to, to get out. Maggie was smart, and resourceful, and strong. And maybe Beth wasn't as tough as Maggie, wasn't as suited to all this, but she'd made it this far. She could be smart. She could be resourceful. She could be strong. 

But that wasn't a strategy.

Try as she might, Beth couldn't figure out what Maggie would do. Get an officer alone and overpower them? Find a weapon, a real one, probably.

And Rick? Rick would manage to get all the wards on his side, lead a revolution or something. Or -- she didn't  _ know _ , she didn't know what Maggie would do, or what Rick would do. Rick had been a leader, had been charismatic and strong-willed when she'd met him, but last she'd seen him? That Rick didn't even know what he was gonna do himself.

Beth took a deep breath, let it out slowly. She wouldn't let her fear turn her mean. Rick and Maggie were too far away. She hadn't seen them in too long, that was all. So she thought of who she'd seen last.

Daryl Dixon. Last man standing. 

Her heart panged hard, thinking about Daryl, alone. He wasn't meant to be alone. No one was, but Daryl didn't seem to think he counted as a person, sometimes. He thought of himself as his role, and maybe that was why he was so good at. So what would Beth do, if she was a hunter, a tracker, a  _ survivor _ ?

A hunter --  _ Daryl _ \-- would get the big picture, would take it all in before he acted, and when he did, he would move fast and hard. Take out everyone between him and the exit fast and quiet, before anyone could raise the alarm. You stayed downwind, so your prey couldn't smell you coming. You moved quiet, so they couldn't hear you. You didn't move at all until you were  _ ready _ .

Could she do that? She had a pretty good picture of what Grady was, now. Knew the entrances and exits, such as they were. Knew the tension points, where things would fracture, if they did. Knew what some of 'em  _ wanted _ . But... could she move fast enough? Could she stay quiet, and out of sight, and downwind? 

Could she kill, if she had to?

Beth didn't think she could manage that. Didn't think she could kill with her bare hands. Gorman had been -- she hadn't planned on killing him, but she didn't regret it, not even a little bit. But they weren't all like Gorman. So, could she do it?

Okay, so she couldn't be Maggie, or Rick, or Daryl. So what would Beth do? What were her strengths? How could she get out of this?

Beth thought there for a long moment, tucked into herself on the floor of Carol's room. And then she went to see Shepherd.


	2. Chapter 2

Shepherd wasn't in her room, or the cafeteria, or guarding the entrance. Beth didn't like being where the officers spent their time, and every moment she spent looking for Shepherd made her tension ratchet up. She could feel her heart beating in her swollen face. 

Licari cut her off before she could start another circuit, looking through the guards stationed in the halls. "What are you looking for?" he asked her. He didn't crowd her, but his eyes were too pale, and they made her nervous.

"Officer Shepherd," Beth said. "It's a girl thing."

Licari raised his eyebrows. "Pretty sure the Lieutenant is just as likely to have tampons."

"Would  _ you _ want to ask her?" Beth asked.

Licari bobbed his head in a gesture Beth read as  _ no, not really _ . "Shepherd's out. There were shots fired in the city."

Beth frowned. "Any idea what it was?"

"Not yet," he said. "You worried about your boyfriend? He's already dead, you know." To his credit, Licari didn't say it cruelly. He looked sad, like it broke his heart that Beth had gotten Noah killed. Like it was inconceivable anyone could survive outside of Grady.

Anger pulsed through Beth, hard enough that she heard a slight roaring in her ears. "You don't know that."

"I've seen it before," Licari said. "Some people just aren't meant for this world. Most people."

Beth thought of Daryl, thought of telling him he was  _ made for the way the world is now, _ thought of how he'd turned deeply into himself, as if that was the cruelest thing she could have said, until she followed it up with worse. "No one's meant for this world," she said. "You'd know that if you'd spent more time in it."

Licari narrowed his eyes at her, taking her measure. Then, just as quickly, dismissing her. "Edwards might have something for you. You should go see him."

The dismissal made her head spin, but it was a relief to get away from his probing gaze. "Okay," she said. "Thanks."

She could feel him watching as she walked away, and some part of her was certain he'd follow-up, ask Dr. Edwards if she'd come to see him, so she headed for his office.

The doctor was in, listening to his record. Beth allowed herself a moment to stand and listen before she headed inside. She tried not to forget what was still beautiful in the world, even now, but to be struck, bodily, by the greatness of loss was... she'd told herself she wasn't a person who cried anymore. Even if it was a lie, she wouldn't cry over this.

She'd save it for stupid things like peach schnapps.

She knocked on the door frame and Edwards jumped in his seat. "Oh, Beth," he said, looking up at her. "Come in. What do you need?"

"I heard you might have some, um," she started, affecting bashfulness and gesturing vaguely around her hips and crotch. "For that time? Of the month?"

"Oh, yeah, of course," he said, getting to his feet and retrieving a set of keys. She tried not to look too interested in where he kept them. "We're out of the disposable ones, of course, but since we've got washing machines here, no one's too upset about reusables."

"I'm not sharing a pad," Beth said. She'd done a lot of things she never would have expected, since the Turn. She'd stolen, and killed, and learned how to shoot, she'd gone weeks without washing, she'd eaten with her hands, walker blood caked under her nails. She hadn't realized she still had lines, when it came to hygiene. She'd made her own pads out of old shirts. She'd taken underwear from abandoned homes. And yet the revulsion was hot and undeniable.

"No, we wouldn't ask you to," Edwards said, looking startled. "Sorry if that's how I made it sound. Come on, it's a storeroom you haven't seen before."

She followed him through the maze of hallways until they came to a door she'd tried earlier in the week. He gestured her in before him, and she looked around for the lights. The door closed firmly, locking them in the dark.

Beth froze, wishing for a weapon. She could hit him with her cast if she had to, she guessed.

The lights turned on, the bulb buzzing and casting harsh light and deep shadows across Dr. Edwards' face, turning his eye sockets into a pair of yawning abyss, his mouth disappearing under the shadow thrown by his nose. He looked unfamiliar. He looked like a monster. She was vividly aware of how much taller he was than her. "You're still trying to escape, aren't you?" he asked.

She squared her shoulders, set her feet, bent her knees, just the slightest bit, taking the posture Rick had taught her to be ready for a fight. "Yes," she said. There was no point equivocating, no point in lying.

She was a terrible hunter. She'd given herself away before she'd been ready to move.

Edwards looked up, as if searching for guidance. If he found some, Beth hoped he would share. It had been a long time since she'd found meaning instead of making it. He looked back to her. "I know where they put the stuff you came in with."

"My knife?" she asked, hope leaping up her throat. "My boots?"

He scrubbed a hand over his face, beard rasping. "Yeah," he said. "All of it."

"Where?" she asked, grabbing his arm. "Tell me."

"I can bring it to my office," he said. "I just need something from you."

She pulled back, disappointed but unsurprised. "What?"

"Don't bring it all down. We're doing something good here."

Beth wasn't sure when she'd lost any ability to self-regulate, but she was starting to understand Daryl's furious outbursts. As angry and afraid as she was, she wanted to  _ hurt  _ people. She'd never been this person before, and she didn't like this version of herself. "Do you even believe that anymore?"

He stared at her for a long moment, then opened the door and turned the light out without answering her. "I'll get your stuff whenever you're ready for it. If I get it now, Dawn'll notice."

Beth looked at him, standing there, holding the door open, face turned from her, and she wasn't sure whether he disgusted her, or she pitied him. He was just scared, like everyone else. "Okay," she said, and walked past him into the light.

*

By evening, Shepherd hadn't come back and Dawn was wound so tight she was about to burst. She was like a jack-in-the-box and the springs were creaking warnings.

"They'll be fine," Beth told her, turned sidelong so she could run if she had to. "They're smart, they're armed. They'll come back in the morning." God, she hoped they would. She wasn't sure who was next in line, if Shepherd was gone. Wasn't sure if it would all crumble without her.

"I'm not going to hit you," Dawn said, glancing over her stance.

That didn't reassure Beth, but she nodded and kept mopping.

"Either they're in trouble," Dawn said, getting on her exercise bike and starting to peddle, "or they're going to  _ be _ trouble. Which do you think is worse?"

Beth kept her eyes on her work. "I don't want anyone else to die."

Dawn laughed. It wasn't a pretty sound. "No chance of that."

"People don't have to hurt each other," Beth said. "We have a choice, we're not walkers."

"No," Dawn said. "People are much worse."

"You can't think like that. If you think like that, what's the  _ point _ ? Why keep everything going, then?" She'd stopped mopping, stopped flinching, and being ready to run. She stared at Dawn, panting a little, face hot with the intensity of her emotion.

Dawn stopped peddling and got off her bike, walking over to her desk. She pulled out a bottle of whiskey. It looked nicer than the moonshine Daryl had found for her, but Beth still eyed it suspiciously. That didn't stop when Dawn pulled out two glasses and poured two fingers into each.

"Come on," Dawn said, her voice gentle. "I don't drink alone." Hesitantly, Beth approached the desk. Dawn slid her one of the glasses. Beth waited until Dawn took a sip before she took one of her own -- it wasn't that she thought it was poisoned or anything, she just. She didn't want to be drunk while Dawn was sober. Dawn leaned back against the desk, one hand braced, the other holding her glass under her nose, swirling it gently. "You don't think anyone's coming, but you think there are still good people out there?"

Beth took a sip and was surprised by how smoothly it went down. It tasted nothing like the moonshine she'd had with Daryl. "I have to," she said. "What's the point, otherwise?"

"You're getting philosophical on me, Beth," Dawn said, warm and teasing and overfamiliar.

Beth hid her face behind her glass, then lowered it so she could look Dawn in the eye. "I mean it!" she said. "If you think it's just gonna be like this  _ forever _ , not being able to trust anyone, what's the point? There has to be something worth living for, or we'd all lay down and die."

"You already tried that, didn't you?" Dawn said. "What stopped you? Fear?"

No one'd asked her that before. They'd just been happy she'd chosen to live, they hadn't cared  _ why _ . "No," Beth said slowly, feeling out the truth of it as she went. "No, I wasn't afraid. It was the first time I stopped being afraid since the turn. It felt like letting them win, you know?" She glanced over at Dawn, who'd put her glass down and was watching her quietly, head cocked. "And I didn't want them to. What do the living owe the dead?" she asked suddenly, directly, staring at Dawn.

Dawn frowned. "A bullet in the head."

"No, before all this, what did we owe the dead?"

Dawn looked over at the picture of Hanson on her file cabinet. "Respect. A funeral, a mourning period."

Beth nodded. "We never owed 'em our lives. I don't think that should change, even now that they're asking."

"Hm." Dawn looked unconvinced, but that was okay. It didn't matter what Dawn thought. Beth knew she was right.

"They were people. We shouldn't forget that."

"You're so soft," Dawn said, disgust heavy in her voice. But below that was the same tension that Beth heard when she talked about how she had to give her officers what they wanted. Fear. Dawn was afraid. Of  _ her _ . And that made Beth bold.

"I am," she said. "But I'm still here. I survived. You don't have to get it, but you can't change it."

In one of Beth's classes, before the end of the world, they'd used balsa wood to build bridges. The wood was soft enough to carve with a fingernail, but Beth's bridge had been strong enough for her to stand on without breaking. Soft didn't mean weak.

"Why do you let them get away with so much?" she asked, honestly curious. "It doesn't make 'em respect you."

Dawn's mood soured immediately. "What do you want me to do, kill my men? The system we have  _ works _ , whatever you think."

Beth bit her tongue. "Okay," she said, instead of what she was thinking.

Dawn sighed and finished her drink. "Go to bed, Beth," she said. "I'm sick of looking at you."

Gratefully, Beth fled.

*

In the morning, there was another report of shots fired. Another patrol car sent out. Tanaka and McGinley, looking serious and just a bit nervous. Beth counted, once, twice, and set herself to her laundry with a great deal of thought. A third of the officers were gone. The wards almost matched those left.

She went to Carol's room. Carol blinked sleepily up at her. "Hey," Carol said, voice thick with exhaustion. She couldn't run now. But tomorrow, if another car went out?

"Hey," Beth said, sitting on her bed and holding her hand. "How're you feeling?"

Carol smiled thinly. "Like I got hit by a car."

Beth squeezed her hand. "You think you could walk, if you needed to?"

"Let's find out," Carol said. "Help me sit up."

Carefully, Beth did so. Carol's back was thin under her hand and she found herself marveling that so much strength could fit in so little space. She helped Carol to her feet, supporting her elbow. Carol glanced at her, trying to smile. "So far so good."

Together they took one faltering step, then another. By the time they reached the other end of the room, Carol was panting, her face a pallid white, sweat standing out at her hairline. Without asking, Beth took more of her weight and turned them around.

When Carol was back in bed, Beth used the blanket to blot the sweat from her brow. "That was a good start," she said, trying not to let her nerves show. She wasn't sure if --  _ when _ \-- this window would close. But she could give Carol another day to recover. If it was that or watch her get torn apart... Beth could wait. 

"Not what you hoped, I'm guessing?" Carol asked.

Beth smiled. "You'll just have to make it up to me by healing fast, okay?"

Carol huffed what might have been a laugh, if her ribs weren't bruised. "I'll do my best, ma'am." She looked at Beth for a long moment. "When did you get all grown up?"

Beth glanced at her feet, the thin red converse that wouldn't protect her from a walker bite. "When you weren't looking, I guess."

Carol nodded. "That's how it tends to go. You think you're safe, you think you know what's going on, then you take a good look and you realize you don't know anything."

"When's the last time you felt safe?" Beth asked, honestly curious. Hers was the prison, before the flu outbreak, but she'd still been a baby then, still thought there might be a happy ending somewhere. She knew better now. There was no such thing as an ending.

Carol sighed, squeezing her hand hard. "I don't remember. It was too long ago."

Beth didn't know what to say to that. But she had to try. "Before Ed?" she asked.

"Yeah," Carol said, face shuttered.

Abruptly, Beth felt like a ghoul, pressing and searching for where Carol hurt. "I'm sorry," she said. "I think I can get us out tomorrow."

"Good," Carol said. "There's a lot of people missing you."

Imagining Maggie's face when she saw Beth again got Beth through the rest of her tasks for the day. And Daryl -- would he smile? Would he pretend he hadn't missed her at all? Beth smiled to herself as she mopped. She'd hug him, whether he wanted her to or not, though she knew his secret. Daryl didn't hate being touched nearly as much as he liked to pretend. He just needed to be able to get away if he had to.

"Hey, Greene," she heard and her head snapped up. Bello stood before her, looking uncomfortable, hands hooked in her belt.

"Yes?" Beth said, leaning on her mop.

Bello glanced around, seemed to come to a decision. "Come with me."

Beth sighed and hurried to put the mop away before she followed Bello into the stairwell. If she left it out, Dawn would be furious.

Bello lead her to the roof without saying another word. There, when they were alone, Bello looked around again, shifting her weight nervously. "Shepherd told you there's people who don't like how the Lieutenant is running things, right?"

"She did."

Bello licked her lips. "Well, if we lose any more officers, it's all going to go down."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because," Bello said, "the more unstable Lieutenant Lerner looks, the more people are going to fall on our side."

"You want me to push her," Beth realized. "You want me to get beaten for you?"

"Yes," Bello said, sounding apologetic. "Publicly."

Beth chewed the inside of her cheek. "What do I get if I help you?"

"A ride to the edge of the city," Bello said. "Whatever direction you want."

Beth thought it over. "And a couple days worth of supplies."

Bello frowned, thinking. Beth held her breath. She didn't know how strong her position was, didn't know how badly they needed her, if at all. But getting dropped on the edge of the city with no supplies was close to a death sentence. She could do it if she had to, but with food and water would be better. "Fine," Bello said eventually.

*

Beth made herself busy in front of Dawn's office, humming  _ Hold On Loosely,  _ singing only the chorus. "Hmm mm mm, if you cling too tightly, you're gonna lose control, mmm," until Dawn stuck her head out and snapped, "Can you stop that?"

"Oh, sorry," Beth said, flashing her a wide grin. "It's just stuck in my head lately, but I can't remember all the words. You know the song?"

"Were you even alive when it came out?" Dawn asked.

"No," Beth said, "but my daddy liked oldies, so I heard it a lot."

"Well, quiet down out there. I'm trying to get work done."

"What work is there even to do?"

"Keeping a count of the drugs is more important now than ever. Can't just order more."

"Yeah, but you're the only one with a key, right? So you should know exactly how much there is." Beth pitched her voice to carry, and Dawn started looking pinched. "Unless, I mean -- you don't think someone's stealing any, right?"

"No," Dawn bit out. 

"That would be really bad," Beth said. "My group -- we were staying at a prison for a while, and, um," she looked up, trying not to remember how Daddy had looked as the Governor cut his head off. "Anyway, our biggest scare was when everyone came down with the flu, or something. A group had to go fifty miles out, to a veterinary college, to get meds. Lotta people died. And if we hadn't been able to trust each other, a lot more would have."

"Beth," Dawn gritted out. "Shut up."

Beth looked her up and down, and prepared for pain. "Make me."

Dawn dragged Beth into her office by the hair and threw her to the ground. "What are you up to?"

"I'm just sick of being told what to do," Beth said. It wasn't even a lie.

"Well, get over it," Dawn said. "Don't make me be the bad guy."

"No one's  _ making _ you do anything," Beth spat, getting to her feet. "You're choosing all of it. You're the one who's  _ choosing _ to do all this, Dawn. That's the thing about being in charge. Can't blame anyone but yourself."

Dawn took a step towards her and Beth tried not to flinch. She was strong, she  _ was _ , and she wouldn't let herself be bullied by a  _ coward _ , too afraid to face up to the real world. Dawn hesitated, then shook her head. "Get out," she said quietly.

"You're not gonna hit me again, make yourself feel like a big--" Beth stumbled over the word, then committed, "big man?"

"Get  _ out _ ," Dawn snapped, sounding a second away from screaming.

Beth got. She should have done it, should have pushed a little harder, pushed until Dawn was screaming and everyone could hear how close to the edge she was, should have worn the proof of her slipping control on her face, but. But.

Beth kind of... felt  _ sorry _ for Dawn.

She was sure that Dawn wouldn't appreciate that, and would read it on her face somehow, so she went up to the roof, to sit in the garden and figure it out. Dawn wasn't  _ kind _ , and she was the most manipulative person Beth had ever met, including Missy Davids, the queen bee of her high school, who was probably long dead anyway, but Beth didn't think that all of the fragility Dawn had shown her was an act.

Rick could have ended up like that, if things had been different. If he'd been surrounded by Shanes instead of Daryl and Carol and Daddy. So Dawn had turned into a monster, but who hadn't? Was Beth proud of who she'd become?

Was it the most she could hope for, that she wasn't ashamed? Maybe that was all a person could ask for. She'd been lucky, so lucky, to be surrounded by the people she was. Here, she didn't like who she was turning into. Driving a woman over the edge because no one had the guts to confront her face on? How could she call Dawn a coward, when Bello had asked Beth to put her own body on the line? 

She pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes and drew in one deep breath after another. Inhaling until her lungs strained and her ribs hurts. Exhaling until she felt almost dizzy. Panic was useless. Self-recrimination too, unless she was going to  _ change  _ something. Could she think of any other routes out?

This time, she was the one to hear the gunshots.

At first, she thought she'd imagined them, but then they popped again, far enough away to sound like fireworks. She rushed to the edge of the roof and hoped for another shot to tell her where to look. The ever present moan of the walkers got louder and she scanned, found a group and followed the direction they were heading.

Then something moved across the way, high enough that she almost didn't believe it. She frowned, trying to figure out what she'd seen, and then all of a sudden it was clear, like one of those magic pictures they'd looked at in her psych class, where the rabbit was a duck, or the vase was two faces. There'd been one she'd looked at for what felt like forever before the dots resolved into a dog. Once the dog appeared, she couldn't unsee it.

This was like that.

Where there had been nothing, now there was a figure in the parking garage. A man, she thought, in dark colors. Frowning, she squinted hard, trying to make out a face.

Instead, she made out a crossbow.


	3. Chapter 3

_ Daryl _ .

If he'd shot her, she wouldn't have been more surprised. Carol had told her, of course, that he was around, and she knew better than to think Daryl would give up. He hated losing people, he'd told her that already, told her over and over. But the isolation of the hospital had gotten to her. She'd started thinking of herself as doing this on her own.

Her cheeks hurt from smiling. She knew better.  _ Alone _ was for people who didn't have Daryl Dixon.  _ Alone _ was for people who'd given up. And Beth Greene didn't give up.

She waved wildly and she saw the moment he recognized her, even in her scrubs. He sagged, visible even so far away, like a marionette with his strings cut, and Beth wanted so badly to embrace him, to tell him she was fine, that it was all going to be okay, they would make it through, but he was out of reach.

Another car peeled out of the lot, heading towards the gunshots. Half the force gone. And Daryl, across the road.

She gestured for him to wait, hoped he understood, and sprinted down the stairs.

_ Screw _ Bello, screw Shepherd, screw their stupid coup, she was getting out of here.

Forcing herself to slow to a walk was a special torture, but she found Dr. Edwards quickly, before she could get too upset.

"Get my things," she told him. "And Carol's."

"Who?" he asked, pale and pinched.

"The woman who came in last. Her things. And a wheelchair. We won't take it out of the building."

"Fine," he said, muscles in his jaw jumping. "Give me a few minutes."

Beth jerked her head in a nod. "That's fine. But as fast as you can."

Then she turned to get Carol ready and ran right into Dawn.

"Where are you going?" Dawn asked, backing her back into Edwards' office.

Beth licked her lips. "Home," she said. "And you're gonna let me."

Dawn kept backing her up, until she hit the desk. "Tell me why I'm going to do that." Edwards started to get up and Dawn released the snap on her gun holster. "Sit down, Steven. You're a part of this too." He sat heavily.

"I'm  _ going _ ," Beth said, trying to keep her voice steady, "because my family is outside, and you're not keeping us apart another minute."

"You  _ owe _ us," Dawn said, voice silky with menace. 

"Ever heard'a the sunk cost fallacy?" Beth asked. "The price is just gonna keep going up and up and up. They got your people, Dawn. You keep me here any longer, they're gonna start killing 'em."

With the most beautiful timing Beth had ever witnessed, the radio on Dawn's belt crackled and Rick's voice came through. He sounded tired, more tired than Beth had ever heard him. "This is Officer Rick Grimes, calling Lieutenant Dawn Lerner."

Dawn backed off one step and kept her eyes on Beth as she pulled the radio from her belt and raised it to speak. "This is Lieutenant Lerner."

"I hear you have some of our people, Lieutenant," Rick said, the interference turning his voice threatening. "I happen to have some of yours. We propose an exchange."

"Guarantee my people are alive," Dawn said.

There was a long pause and then Shepherd's voice came through. "We're fine, Lieutenant," she said. "A little hungry, but uninjured."

Dawn's eyes were still steady on Beth's face, and for a moment Beth thought she would turn down the trade, that her pride wouldn't allow her to make it. "When?" she said.

"Half an hour," Rick said. "We'll come to you."

The line went dead. And then, very carefully, Dawn turned off the radio. Beth stared at her, wide-eyed, waiting to see what she would do.

"They must love you," Dawn said, "to put themselves at such risk, for such a useless little girl."

Beth wanted to protest, but Dawn was lashing out, trying to hurt her. There was no point. Beth knew her worth, and it wasn't defined by how Dawn thought of her. "I'll go get Carol ready," she said instead, and brushed past.

Dawn caught her wrist, grip hard enough that the bones ground together. "You're a little cunt," she whispered.

Beth stomped on her foot and simultaneously turned her wrist and yanked towards the overlap of Dawn's fingers. Daryl had taught her to use a knife, Rick had taught her to use a gun, but back before the world ended, before she went on her first date, Maggie had taught her how to get away. It wasn't pretty or sophisticated, but it had worked on handsy teenage boys and it worked on Dawn.

"You don't know anything," she told Dawn, whose face was twisted with anger. "Now, please. Let it go."

Rick had miscalculated. Beth could tell that before Dawn opened her mouth again. Taking that many of her people, setting himself as an officer, a competitor, he'd challenged her. And Beth had already been trying to drive her off balance, trying to make her lash out. Here it was; the lash was coming.

"I don't think so," Dawn said, putting Beth in a hold and fastening her hands behind her with a set of zip-tie handcuffs. Dawn was faster than her, and stronger, and Beth was reeling with the understanding of how bad she'd misjudged things, of how  _ fucked _ the situation was, and she didn't fight back, allowed herself to be moved like a rag doll.

Dr. Edwards looked like he understood too. "Dawn," he said, "she's been such a pain in the ass, just let her go, let it be over."

"They've tried to make fools of us, Steven," Dawn said fixing a strong grip around Beth's upper arm. "You want them to get away from here, tell everyone they meet that we're sitting on a stash of medicine and power and we're too weak to protect it? No. They knew when they called. Not everyone's going to walk away. Get my officers down to the yard," she told him. "I'll meet you down there."

Then she towed Beth away. They went to the medicine cabinet and one handed, Dawn opened it and pulled a bottle out. She shot a look at Beth. "There's nowhere to run," she said and let go of her arm, opening the bottle and shaking out a pair of pills. "Take these," she said.

Beth shook her head, lips pressed tightly together.

Dawn smiled. It wasn't friendly. "You can be a good girl and take them without a fuss, or we can go see your friend Carol."

Grudgingly, Beth opened her mouth and Dawn put the pills on her tongue. She hid them under her tongue before swallowing, but Dawn made her lift her tongue and tsk'd at her. "You think you're the first to try that?" she said. "Swallow them."

Beth swallowed. Dry, the pills went down like rocks, and sat in her stomach just as heavily. "What are they?" she asked.

"Just a mild sedative," Dawn said. "Don't want you making any more trouble during a fragile moment. Come on, let's go." She towed Beth down to the yard, where the officers hovered near their cars. Carol was there, dressed in her own clothes, sitting in a wheelchair and looking alert. At least there was that.

Everything else was going wrong, but at least Carol was okay.

The sedative was starting to take effect. Beth felt slow and foggy, her muscles loose and not quite under her control. But she paid very close attention as Dawn started speaking. O'Donnell, on the other hand, was paying close attention to Beth. The hole in his cheek was covered by a square of gauze, but Beth knew what was under it.

"We've got a problem, people," Dawn said. She sounded calm, in control. Maybe in moments of crises she actually was a good leader. "Our guests here have some friends that want them back. Given our resources and precarious position, I'm sure you understand why this is an issue. We don't want them deciding they want not only  _ who _ we have, but  _ what _ . And we don't want them telling others what we have."

There was a long pause. Beth looked from face to face, to see if the officers were convinced. Her head was too foggy to feel certain, but more than half the faces she saw were set in hard lines. It didn't matter if they didn't like Dawn if they agreed with her.

"Rick's not like that," she protested, not totally sure that was true. A doctor and the tools he needed were valuable beyond words in this world. "Give us back and it'll be over."

Without seeming to look at her, Dawn elbowed her hard in the stomach. Beth dropped to her knees, gasping for breath. Carol started to protest and was forced back into her chair.

"Now, they have our radios, so anything we say on the air, they can hear. What we say now, you stick to. The plan isn't changing, no matter what you hear on the radio." Dawn looked from face to face, something Beth had seen Rick do when presenting a plan he knew would be unpopular. "We're killing them all. I want snipers ready to take them out when the trade is over. We get our people safe, we take them out. Any volunteers?"

O'Donnell stepped forward. And then Bello. Beth shook her head, furious and helpless.

"Head to perches," Dawn said and O'Donnell and Bello nodded and disappeared into the building. Beth started trying to get her hands in front of her without being too obvious. 

For the first time she was grateful for her broken wrist. The cast had kept Dawn from cinching the zip-tie tight, so she had a little more wiggle room. As she tried to get her wrists past her toes, the cast earned its weight in gold. Or refined sugar, which was harder to find at this point. The zip-tie slipped right off of it. The excitement that leaped up in Beth was enough to clear the fuzziness from her head for a moment. She kept her hands behind her back, kept her eyes towards the gate, waiting. 

That was something Daryl had taught her. When you were hunting, there were two techniques. The first was tracking game, and that was for things that weren't faster than you. The second was finding where the game  _ wanted _ to be, and waiting for them to come to you. If you chose your spot right, it wouldn't even take that long.

She hadn't been good at it. She got bored too easily, fidgeted and squirmed, stopped paying attention to the world around her. It turned out the stakes just hadn't been high enough. Now? Even with the sedative trying to pull her under into a calm sort of nothing, her gaze was sharp on the gate.

"Now," Dawn was saying, "these people have been out there for a long time. We don't know what kind of unpleasantness they're capable of, so don't hesitate. It's them or us, and don't give them the chance to make the call." Dawn glanced over at the gate. "Stay behind me, people. Don't go for your guns until the exchange is over and our people are safe."

There was a shuffle of movement that Beth tracked from beneath her fall of hair. Her knees ached from the hard press of the pavement, but she just remembered what Daryl had told her.  _ It's not that you ignore discomfort. It's that you deal with it later. Acknowledge it and move on. _

So. Her knees hurt and her heart was trying to race through the sedative. All of that could be dealt with once her family was safe.

When she saw her family approaching, Beth leapt into action. She looped her bound hands around Dawn's throat, yanking her backwards and spinning them to walk backwards towards the gate. "Hold your fire!" Dawn called, voice strangled.

"Beth?" she heard Rick say. "What's going on?"

"They've got snipers," she called. "Planning on taking us out after the trade."

When she glanced over her shoulder, Daryl already had a gun out and the rest of them were going for their weapons, just a moment slower. Relief made her lightheaded, but it wasn't over yet. "It's good to see you," she said, voice wavering.

"You too, sweetheart," Rick said, gesturing Tyreese forward to open the gate. "How about one of you brings Carol forward, nice and easy now?"

One of the officers did, and Sasha led forward an officer in exchange. Beth backed out through the gate, Dawn still rigid against her. Rick's hand landed warm on her shoulder, and then his gun was aimed at Dawn's head. Beth raised her hands, releasing Dawn, and stumbled backwards, the sedatives hitting hard with a rush of dizziness she couldn't ignore. Daryl was there, catching her, gun away and knife out, cutting the cuffs off and turning her to examine her.

His eyes lingered on the sutures crawling over and under her eyes. "They hurt you," he said, low and furious.

"They won't do it again," she told him, embracing him hard. He ran one arm around her shoulders, but the other went for his gun, and he drew her back and back, getting her out of range.

She watched the rest of the exchange with her face pressed into the soft front of his shoulder, where his muscles met and dipped, inhaling the smell of home like it was something sweet, rather than blood and rot and sour sweat. She hadn't smelled anything so good since she'd woken up in Grady.

Rick kept Dawn for last, backing the rest of the group around a corner and out of range of the snipers before he took her gun and kicked it back into the street. "Any goodbyes you wanna say, Beth?" he said quietly, and Beth peeled herself away from Daryl, exhaustion so heavy on her that her feet dragged. She'd left her knife back there, she realized with a pang of loss. And her boots. 

Dawn's eyes were cold and her jaw so clenched that Beth absently counted the jumps in the muscle. If looks could kill...

Beth thought, swaying there for what felt like eternity. "Take care of your people, Dawn," she said eventually.

Dawn curled her lip. "I don't need  _ you _ to tell me that."

Beth shrugged. "I think you do, but I'm outta your hair now. Stay alive. Don't let the walkers win." She headed back to Daryl before Dawn could think of how to respond.

"I get it now," Dawn called. When Beth glanced back, there was something in Dawn's face that told Beth that maybe she did.  _ Good _ .

She leaned her head on Daryl, unable to keep it up on her own. If she'd been in her right mind, she would've given him more space, or at least asked before touching him, but she felt like she was going to fall asleep on her feet. Out of the slit of her barely open eye, she could see him raise his hand to her cheek and hesitate a few inches away from touching.

"You okay, girl?" he asked, letting his hand drop.

She hummed, turning her face more firmly into him, cutting out the syrupy light of the day. "They gave me somethin' and I'm gettin' awful sleepy."

He hadn't been relaxed before, but his muscles turned from iron to steel. There was a moment where she thought he would sprint from her and kill Dawn before she reached the gates of Grady. Instead, voice low, he said, "I gotcha. You go ahead and sleep." And he picked her up, same as he had when her ankle had been so bad.

She giggled, then looked at the faces of their family and giggled again. "We've got an audience, Mr. Dixon," she told him, hooking her arm over his neck to balance herself better.

"Don't know why," he grumbled, "as it's not a goddamn  _ show _ ."

Sasha snickered and thumped Tyreese into moving as Rick and Carol came up past them, a small smile on Carol's face.

\--

Beth jerked to wakefulness at the sound of Maggie screaming her name.

"Maggie?" she cried, struggling out of Daryl's arms as he swore and tried to set her on her feet without dropping her.

Maggie was on the ground, face twisted in anguish, but when she saw Beth moving, she scrambled to her feet and caught Beth in a fierce embrace, tight enough that she crushed the breath out of Beth. Beth wasn't about to complain, though, hugging back just as hard.

"I thought you were  _ dead _ ," Maggie said into Beth's hair, half-sobbing. "I thought -- oh  _ Bethy _ ."

"I'm alive, I'm alive," Beth reassured her, tears leaking uncontrollably. "We're both alive."

"Won't be for long, we keep making a fuss in the middle of walker central," a strange man said. Beth peered at him over Maggie's shoulder and saw that he was leaning out of a firetruck.

"She's drugged," Daryl said, "let her ride."

"You're drugged?" Maggie asked, pulling back to peer at Beth, seeming to see for the first time the sutures holding her face together. "What did they do to you? They still alive?"

"Just a sedative, I'll tell you later, don't worry about it," Beth said, laughing.

"Come on, little lady," the man in the truck said, hopping out and guiding her forward and handing her in. "Let's get a move on."

She was folded in next to another stranger, this one with a mullet. The truck swayed and dipped as the big man handed first Maggie in and then got in himself, and the rest of the family climbed up on the back.

Maggie put her arm over Beth's shoulders and tugged Beth into her body, resting her chin carefully on the crown of Beth's head. "You know what they gave you?"

Beth shook her head, just a little, too happy where she was to shift much. "It was pills. That's all I know. Is Glenn...?"

"Alive," Maggie said, "he's riding in the back."

"Oh, good," Beth breathed. "Michonne? Carl?" She hesitated for a moment, scared to ask. "Judith?"

Maggie smoothed Beth's hair back, hand gentle. "All alive. We lost... a lot of people. Lost the whole bus. But a lot made it through."

Beth nodded into her shoulder, overwhelmed with gratitude. "That's good," she said, falling back to sleep. "That's really good."

\--

When she woke again, Daryl was trying to carry her out of the truck and the light was low. She grabbed his shoulder. "'M up. Don't throw out your back on my account."

"Not that heavy," he said, backing up to help her out.

When she stepped out, she flexed her feet. The converse were so thin she could feel every bump of the pavement through them. She'd need to get some new shoes -- and clothes -- soon. "I recall you saying something else not so long ago," she told him, and he grumbled something under his breath.

The food was worse than at Grady, but the company was better. Beth spent the whole time beaming at everyone, just so glad to see them all again. The sedative had fully worn off and she was wide-awake, so when dinner was done and everyone started to settle down, she clambered up onto the top of truck to sit with Daryl on watch.

He sat with his back to the fire, crossbow next to him, so she sat on his other side. "Thanks for coming for me," she said, pinky brushing his.

He grunted, not looking at her. "Wasn't nothing."

"Take the thanks, Daryl," she said. "I've had a rough month and I don't feel like bullying you into knowing you're appreciated just now."

He huffed something that she would generously call a laugh. "'Kay," he said. "Welcome, then."

She smiled into the darkness. "I told you they were still alive, Daryl Dixon."

He hummed agreement. "Yeah."

"Being so right all the time can be exhausting, you know," she told him cheerfully.

"Guess you'll have to get used to it," he said, and she smiled and bumped her shoulder into his.

"Guess I will."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [tumblr](https://alamorn.tumblr.com/) if you're into that sort of thing


End file.
